Davina’s POV
I sat alone in the sterile white of the hospital room for a while, staring at the phone in my hand for a few seconds before finally calling my father.
“I’ll do it,” I said. “I’ll marry into the Ashbournes.”
My parents arrived in under ten minutes.
My mother didn’t bother hiding her delight. “See? Would’ve saved us all the trouble if you’d just agreed from the start. I told you Daxon was a mistake!”
I just watched her silently, my mind bringing back memories.
Years ago, when the Ashbournes offered an engagement, I chose love over legacy. I chose Daxon.
Now, with one phone call, my parents were ready to erase him from the picture like he was never part of it.
That’s what the Ashbournes did to people. It made everyone disposable.
“But you’re pregnant,” my mother added, eyes narrowing as if I’d forgotten that tiny inconvenience. “That’s gonna complicate—”
“I scheduled the procedure,” I said. “But I need your signatures.”
Her eyes lit up again. “Oh! Perfect, perfect! Where do I sign? Let’s get it done today.”
She was practically bouncing, ready to wrap me up with a bow and ship me off.
I looked at her like I wasn’t looking at my own mother.
My father gently tugged at her sleeve. “Davina’s leg is still injured. Let her rest.”
She frowned, clearly disappointed that she couldn’t hand me over to the Ashbournes.
“Fine. In a couple of days then. You know I’m only thinking of what’s best for you. It’s just… the longer you wait, the more complicated things can get.”
I turned my face away and shut my eyes. I didn’t even want to look at my own mother anymore.
Back then, they used my baby to pressure me into marrying Daxon. Now, the baby was an obstacle to a better match.
‘Funny how fast things change.’
Three days later, I was discharged.
Just as I was limping my way home, I ran into Daxon and Cleo again.
She was tucked into his chest like she belonged there. They looked like one of those couples who couldn’t get enough of each other.
Daxon’s eyes found mine. He took a step toward me—then stopped, yanked back by Cleo’s hand in his.
“Davina! Where’d you been these past few days?” she chirped, her voice soaked in fake concern. “He’s been so worried.”
She started walking toward me, her face soft, her smile tight. But her eyes…
There it was again. That flash of something sharp and mean.
I tried to sidestep her—forgot for one stupid second that my leg wasn’t ready.
I stumbled backward, off balance—and she fell with me.
Only, she wasn’t falling. She threw herself down! Her elbow slammed into my belly, and her foot jammed into my already-broken leg!
The world lit up with pain. My mind went blank for a second.
Somewhere in the blur, I heard her have the nerve to cry out dramatically.
And just like that, Daxon rushed in straight to her and lifted her off the ground.
Just like last time.
Just like all the times before.
One hundred and one times, to be exact.
And every single time, he chose her. Never me.
But now, it didn’t sting. Not like before.
Because this was the 101st time. There would be no more “next time” for me and him.
Holding Cleo, Daxon looked at me awkwardly as I lay on the ground, trembling in pain, cold sweat beading on my forehead.
“Davina, Cleo’s ankle—she just recovered. I…”
I clenched my fists. I kept my voice even. “I’m fine. I can manage. Go.”
He didn’t need convincing.
He was gone before I could finish the breath.
I lay there for a moment, staring up at what used to be our home.
Tears slipped silently down the sides of my face.
This home had held five years of memories. It justlooked strange. I couldn’t find a single one that belonged just to me.
Big photos covered the walls—Cleo’s face everywhere. Her portraits. Shots of her and Daxon smiling like they were posing for wedding invites.
There was only one photo of me and Daxon—and Cleo stood between us in that one, too.
She was clinging to his side, and I looked like a stranger, a photobomber.
A forced smile formed in my lips. ‘Whatever. None of it matters anymore.’
Half an hour later, a helicopter landed. The Ashbournes sent it.
Within the hour, news of my engagement was everywhere. The top story, trending across the globe.
When Daxon found out, he came running back.
But, he was too late.
I watched him from the chopper window—sprinting like a madman across the lawn, shouting my name, trying to reach me.
But everything between us was like the wind roaring past my ears—already gone.
